Marital Contract
by Shanne
Summary: One-Shot. PWP. Harry finds out his parents arranged his marriage. That’s not the problem. The problem is to whom he’s supposed to be married. Slash HPDM


**General warnings: **

1) This fic deals with **SLASH**. Slash as in boy/boy relationships, comprendre? Not your cup of tea, then go get coffee.

2) English is _**not**_ my mother tongue so please excuse possible mistakes and kindly point them out so that I may actually learn from them.

**Disclaimer: **I own diddly squat.

**Summary: **My first attempt at a crack!fic. Also PWP. Harry finds out his parents arranged his marriage. That's not the problem. The problem is to _whom_ he's supposed to be married.

**A/N:** Feedback is welcome!

For those interested my other fic, 'BloodBound' is currently stuck on the fifth chapter. I'm working on it, rest assured. I'm about halfway through.

* * *

**Marital Contract**

**By Shawn Anne**

Harry Potter had long since decided that life was unfair. When he was a child he knew that his relatives were treating him unfairly. When he was at Hogwarts in his early years, he knew that the Potions Teacher treated him unfairly. Later on, he knew cruelty in the forms of Lord Voldemort and Professor Umbridge. But this… this was moving well beyond cruelty. Far, _far_ beyond.

Now, sitting in Dumbledore's office, months after the final battle between Voldemort and himself, Harry was contemplating whether resurrecting the Dark Lord and allowing him to off him was such a bad idea after all. Because really, the alternative was positively… Harry had no words to describe it.

"Err… Professor, could you maybe explain that to me again?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in that special way that usually meant that the knowledge he was about to impart would quite literally shatter your world. Which it already did, but Harry was firmly fixed on denial.

"You are to be wedded by this time next week, Harry," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling brighter than a moment ago.

Harry's hand twitched towards his wand. Maybe he could hex the old man into next week _and_ get away with it. He _was_ the Savior of the Wizarding World, after all… And even if he didn't, then that worked just fine too because being married certainly wasn't an option. And bright side… No more Dumbledore would result in no more interesting information about his already overly-F'd up life popping up randomly.

"Do try and pay attention, Harry," Dumbledore chided, eyeing Harry's wand suspiciously. _That_ gave the Gryffindor a sense of satisfaction.

"Sorry, sir," he said.

No use being rude now. Dumbledore might think of other things to share with Harry, and Harry was disinclined to learn more about his destiny.

"As I was saying, you are to be wedded by this time next week to Mr. Draco Malfoy," the old wizard said calmly and Harry had to make a valid effort not to throttle the man.

"And why exactly does… _that_ have to happen?" Harry asked nervously.

"Mr. Potter, we have already covered this twice. Are you _that_ dense?" a cold, silky voice snapped, causing Harry to look at Snape who had been present all through the meeting.

Harry was ninety percent certain that Snape was enjoying this entirely too much. _Bastard!_ The Potions Master smirked evilly. Harry scowled and scratched the previous thought. He was now one hundred percent that Snape was enjoying this entirely too much. Then he frowned at his own parroting thoughts.

"I know," Harry finally said. "But let's pretend I didn't catch that the first couple of times around, shall we?"

Snape smirked again and Dumbledore coughed, causing all eyes to focus on him once again. "Harry, you are well aware that your father was a Pureblood," Harry nodded and the Headmaster continued: "It is custom for Pureblood families to sign a magical binding contract that insures the continuation of the bloodlines. In your case, the contract was signed with the Malfoy family," he finished cheerfully.

Harry was back to suicidal thoughts and the prospect of resurrecting the former Dark Lord. "And how, if I may inquire, did that come to be? I'm a boy and so is Malfoy! Neither of us can _have_ babies!" Harry asked, bordering slightly on hysteric.

"Well, see, Mr. Malfoy is a month older than you are and your parents thought you'd be a girl and…" Dumbledore paused at the strangled '_Meep!_' that escaped Harry's lips.

"They thought I'd be a _girl_?" the _**Boy**_-Who-Lived asked outraged.

"Well, all the females from your mother's family carried female babies. Imagine your parents' surprise when you came along with your… well, with your dangly bits," Dumbledore explained, leaning over to pick up a lemon drop.

Harry, for his part, choked. Dumbledore had used the term 'dangly bits'. The world _must_ be coming to an end. There was no other explanation for it. Good thing too, because there was no way in _Hell_ that Harry would marry the Slytherin Brat Prince. Except that there was…

"And if I refuse to marry him?" Harry asked, latching on to his only hope.

Dumbledore explained around a mouthful of lemon drops. Harry hoped that at least one of the sweets would lodge in Dumbledore's throat and stay there. "Oh, you'll lose your fortune and the contract will melt your insides slowly, starting with your genitals."

Harry gulped and crossed his legs, absently noting that Snape did the same.

"And… Does- does Malfoy know that he has to… you know… Marry me?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again, this time making Harry wonder if he and Snape would go blind at the intensity of it. It was a valid cause of concern.

* * *

"No, no, absolutely not!" Malfoy screamed, jumping to his feet and pacing around the room. "I- I- I _refuse_ to do it!"

"Oh, Draco, stop complaining. You'll lose our entire fortune if you don't," his mother said, watching her son as he moved around the Slytherin dormitory.

"Mother, I don't particularly _care_! I am _not_ marrying Harry bloody _Potter_!" he said firmly, crossing his arms in a defiant manner.

"But honey-" Narcissa tried to reason with her only heir.

"No."

"Look at me and your father, then. Our marriage was arranged the same way and we turned out okay," the witch stated quite matter-of-factly.

Draco looked at her incredulously. "You're married to a homicidal _Death Eater_."

Narcissa considered. "Let's not worry about technical problems, sweetie."

"Read my lips, woman! NO!" the blond snapped and his mother recognized the behavior for what it was: the beginning of a temper tantrum.

Deciding to take action, Narcissa continued sweetly: "You'll lose all your designer clothes…"

Draco stopped pacing and turned wide eyes on her. "I wouldn't."

Narcissa inwardly smirked. "Oh, yes, you would. Your _entire_ designer clothes collection, your hair products, your personal bank account, your house, your reputation-"

Malfoy held up one hand, interrupting his mother's words. "I get it, I get it… But still… Harry _bloody_ Potter?" he asked not bothering to hide his disgust.

"An unfortunate mistake, dear. Nothing to worry about. You'll still be able to procreate. Magic and all that," the Malfoy matriarch said dismissively.

Draco spluttered. "You mean I have to… You know…"

Narcissa regarded him surprised. "Of course! That's the _point _of the magical binding contract in the first place! Just don't overdo it like the Weasleys have, alright, dear?"

Draco wondered if refusing the marriage would be such a bad thing after all. He thought about his wardrobe at home. Draco cringed.

"When is this wedding supposed to take place?" he asked, suppressing a whimper at the words alone.

"By this time next week, honey. Right after your NEWTs," Narcissa said brightly.

Draco did whimper this time.

* * *

The week before the wedding itself would automatically go down in the history of Hogwarts. If not, then Hermione Granger would most likely make sure to add it there herself. Both Harry and Draco were so desperate to prevent the wedding from happening that they worked damn hard to get each other out of the way… permanently.

On the first day, Monday, Harry had blown up Malfoy's potion in Snape's class. Needless to say, Snape had been livid. He had yelled so loud and so much that the students thought he might give himself an anuresyum. The Gryffindors kept their fingers crossed for that to happen and some even transfigured their potion ingredients into cameras, hoping to immortalize the event. Sadly, that didn't happen and by the time the roof finished falling in, Harry was assigned two nights worth of detention. With Filch _and_ Snape. The Gryffindors promised Harry to say good things about him at his funeral. Five minutes after that, when Snape deducted 100 points from their house, they vowed to help Draco in his quest to end the Golden Boy's life. At that point, Harry didn't know whether to be grateful or afraid.

But one thing he did know… That karma was a bitch. _'Serves him right for enjoying my predicament. Bastard!'_ Harry thought.

* * *

Tuesday… Tuesday was Malfoy's triple attempt at poisoning his soon-to-be-husband day. When that didn't work thanks to Granger, Draco pushed Harry into the lake, hoping that the little green-eyed tosser would drown. Unfortunately, the giant squid, being the cute and considerate being that it was, fished a coughing and sputtering Harry out of said lake and placed him safely on the shore, patting his head with a giant tentacle before retreating to the watery depths. Malfoy whacked his head against a tree trunk multiple times after that. _Hard_.

* * *

On Wednesday, Harry resorted to trying the '_Avada Kedavra' _on Draco's poncy self.

Ron stopped him and, by doing so, lost his status oh best mate.Desperate, Harry flung a blasting curse at the wall beside Malfoy. Unfortunately for him, McGonagall had just rounded the corner in time to see that and stopped any debris from reaching the Slytherin. After that she proceeded to give Harry an hour-long, ear-ringing lecture on why it was bad to blow up parts of the school. That earning him another detention and another fifty points lost, Harry was back on the 'most wanted' list in Gryffindor tower.

The boy whimpered.

Ron comforted him through a pat on the back and a '_can I have your Firebolt after you kick the bucket, mate?_'.

* * *

Thursday, Draco and Harry were kept away from each other though the very valiant efforts of their friends. At the end of the day, Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and –surprisingly- Romilda Vane were in the Hospital Wing, being treated for various poisons, hexes, jinxes and strange combinations of all of the above.

Madam Pomfrey suggested later that they should have a wing specialized for Spell Damage within the school.

Complete with specialists from St. Mungo's.

That was no idle suggestion.

* * *

Friday morning was a disaster all-around. Dumbledore –Merlin bless his manipulative and highly sadistic soul- set a couple of house elves to keep track of the two boys. Sadly though, he made the mistake of sending Dobby off with Draco and Kreacher with Harry.

The Hogwarts staff was never able to fix the second floor bathroom. Or the History of Magic class. Or repair the damage inflicted upon the stairs on the fourth floor (they now had to avoid falling due to the absence of half the stairs) thanks to a very creative combination of two '_Confrigo_' spells and two more or less orthodox blasts caused by the house elves who attempted to kill off their respective charges.

By Friday noon, Dumbledore was seriously considering expelling the two students… And having the two house elves' heads glued to a board.

Sometime during Friday evening, however, things took a turn for the calmer when both Harry and Draco agreed to meet in the Room of Requirement which decidedly began acting strangely upon their entrance, alternating between a Roman arena and an execution chamber.

"Potter," Draco greeted stiffly, idly twirling his wand in his hands.

"Malfoy," Harry responded in kind, twitching slightly towards a rather nifty sword that appeared beside him.

"We're getting married tomorrow," said the blond, narrowing his eyes at the other, as if blaming everything on Harry.

"Brilliant deduction there, Sherlock!" Potter snapped, barely restraining himself from hexing the Slytherin into next _year_.Come to think of it… That _would_ postpone the wedding form hell.

Draco sneered and stepped closer to the Boy-Who-Lived who stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his fiancé. "Look, I don't like this either. You'll just have to let me kill you and we'll be well on our way."

Harry bristled at the audacity the blond had and pulled out his wand at the same time as Malfoy moved his, pointing it at a pale, not-at-all-tempting neck."Think you can do better than Voldemort?" Harry asked and was satisfied to see Draco gulp.Unfortunately that drew Harry's attention back to Malfoy's oh-so-nice-looking neck.

Draco noticed. And smirked.

Poncy bastard!

"I'm too pretty to die, Potter, as you've seemed to notice. Therefore it _has_ to be you," Malfoy said sweetly, stepping closer to Harry.

"And I'm the Savior of the Wizarding World."

"Exactly! You're the hero! _Be_ a hero and _let_ me kill you! Save me from spending the rest of my life with a fashion challenged twit!" Draco piped in.

"I am_ not_ fashion challenged!" Harry argued.

There was a pause. Then Draco started _howling_ with laughter. Harry briefly wondered if the git was a werewolf by the sounds he was making.

"No-not fashion challenged?" Draco asked, continuing to laugh.

"Shut up!" Potter snapped, giving Malfoy the I-would-dearly-love-to-(shag)strangle-you-look.

That only served to make Draco laugh harder. Harry's eyes narrowed as he waited for the hysterics to die down. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Suddenly, the idea of allowing himself to be killed didn't seem so ridiculous. But- he did want to test out his Slytherin side before being AK'd… And what better way to do that than by having fun _and_ irritating the blond further?

Grinning at the positively malicious thought that crossed his mind, Harry called the blonde's name out in a deep, rumbling voice. "Hey, Draco."

That successfully shut the other boy up. '_Better than a silencing charm_,' Harry mused as he pulled Malfoy in for a kiss.

Malfoy _froze _with shock. Then he thrust his tongue in Potter's mouth and it was Harry's turn to freeze.

Okay- that was definitely _not _what Harry was aiming for.

Worse yet, Draco was a very _good_ kisser and effectively turned the Gryffindor's brain into a giddy pile of mush. And for good reason. Harry didn't even know that a tongue could _do_ things like _that_. Or that having your tongue sucked like a lollypop felt so positively heavenly.

Oh yes, his upstairs brain was definitely out for the count.

Until Malfoy snaked his hand inside the brunette's trousers and pulled away for a better shot at getting air into his lungs.

"Wait, don't-"Harry attempted to protest before pale fingers closed around his throbbing prick and stroked. "Oh… _Oh!_ Okay!"

He could feel Draco's smirk against his jaw.

Bloody poncy _bastard_!

Behind their backs, the Room of Requirement changed into a bedroom, compete with a huge fluffy bed and lube on the bedside table.

Hours later, thoroughly shagged out and giddy, they decided that getting married might not be so bad after all.

"Hey, Potter…" Draco said suddenly while still catching his breath.

"Hmm?" came the oh-so-eloquent answer.

"It's high time we teach you a little something about fashion. That's why you're definitely wearing the dress," said Draco and ducked out of the way of a pillow.

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